


I don't wanna walk around with you

by gross_batpanda



Series: Chicagoland [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Goodbye Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sex Crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gross_batpanda/pseuds/gross_batpanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gross punk au, now with 100% more angst and feelings.</p><p>Title is from a Ramones song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't wanna walk around with you

If George knew why Alex begged off a final Friday night of beer and porn, he'd probably kill him. He was all packed, all traces of himself removed from Liz’s apartment and car, and was enjoying the bottle of Veuve Cliquot Phil Schuyler had given him as a goodbye present in the bathtub. 

With Ben. 

They passed the bottle back and forth, taking swigs from it. Ben deserved this, to enjoy himself without having to look over his shoulder for George’s approval. Ben responded differently when it was just the two of them. There wasn't much opportunity for that-a few rushed encounters in the alley behind the record store, stolen kisses and touches when George had gone out to get cigarettes. Alex had mentioned leaving, and had casually invited Ben him over with the promises of one last night together with champagne and premium cable TV. 

“But what about George?”

“Who says we have to tell George?”

The champagne made Ben giggly and flushed, but that had changed after they killed the bottle.

“You think you'll ever come back? To visit?”

Something tightened in Alex’s chest. He stared at the ceiling, unable to look Ben in the eye. “Probably not. I don't have much reason to ever come back.” He kept his eyes trained to the ceiling,  until he heard a sniffle from Ben. Sure enough, his eyes were wet.  _ Fuck _ .

“Hey, I didn't mean it that way, c’mere”. Alex ran his fingers through Ben’s hair as he pressed against his chest. “Look, Chicago was where I was dumped. I've been on my own since I was 14. Only people I really know anymore are the Schuylers, and they're nice, but they're on another planet, and George, and--”, Alex willed away the lump in his throat,  “--and you. I gotta move on.”

Ben stayed buried in Alex’s chest. At least he didn't ask any more questions; Alex didn't need to unload any more of his sob story tonight. He gave Ben’s hair a gentle tug, and he groaned softly. He kept at it, pulling Ben up to kiss him, wiping away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks. He grew more insistent and water splashed out of the tub. 

“Bed, c’mon.”

Ben sobbed in earnest as Alex thrust into him .He paused, but Ben choked out  _ keep going  _ between tears. He sucked bruises into Ben’s shoulder, no longer caring about George. He had tried not to stare at the welts on his ass and the bruises on his hips, so George will deal with Alex’s own handiwork. 

He buried his head into Ben’s neck as he came, and inhaled sweat and soap. Ben was still hard, so Alex laid him on his back and sucked him off while curling two fingers inside him. Ben writhed and shuddered, and Alex easily parried every thrust, until Ben spilled down his throat. 

Alex swallowed, and held Ben as he cried, his whole body shaking with every sob. He finally calmed down, and Alex grabbed a damp cloth and cleaned him up. His cheeks were flushed, his lips red from kissing, and there were so many things Alex wanted to say:  _ You're beautiful, you could have anyone you wanted, stop giving the time of day to that old man, find a nice boy your own age, goddammit I'm gonna miss you. _ He settled for “You hungry? I was thinking about ordering a pizza.”

They ate pizza and watched some horror movie marathon on TV. Ben laughed at the shit special effects. He looked like he was enjoying himself. Good. He deserved this much. 

“When does your train leave?” Ben asked as he nuzzled against Alex’s shoulder. 

“Eight.”

“Do you think I could--I told my parents I was staying at a friend's, I mean, I could still do that, but--”

“You wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.” Ben flushed with embarrassment and buried his head deeper into Alex. Letting a 17 year old spend the night was beyond stupid, but it paled in comparison to all the other stupid shit Alex had done over the summer.  What the hell, it was already late. “Sure.”

 

###

  
  


Ben was better with his hands than his mouth. It didn't take long for Alex to spill all over his long fingers and pass out shortly after, tangled up in Ben’s limbs on the king-sized bed. 

His last thought before sleep is that this was probably the first time Ben spent the night with someone who fucked him.

In the morning Alex stripped the bed, shoved the sheets down the laundry chute, brewed a pot of coffee, and took a quick shower. He drank coffee and ate cold pizza with Ben in relative silence. 

They kissed when the cab pulled up to Union Station and Alex gave him a brief hug. “Have a good school year. Don't let George walk all over you.”

Ben shrugged that off, and Alex pretended not to notice the dampness around his eyes. 

The train ride was long, and Alex filled the time with making notes in his copy of  _ The Wealth of Nations _ , games of solitaire, his usual hustle of stealing peanuts from the dining car and selling them at half price. He called Gil from a pay phone in Pittsburgh while waiting to change trains, and got a man in a ridiculous purple sport coat to buy him a cappucino. Sleep was out of the question. 

Gilbert was waiting for him outside Penn Station, and babbled on the drive back to the apartment about his summer in Auvergne, preproduction for his thesis film, bullshit scene gossip. Alex tuned it all out until Gil playfully punched him in the shoulder. 

“I  _ said _ , how's the old man doing?”

“Same as ever, I guess”.

 

###

 

Alex threw himself into a self-imposed celibacy, only breaking it for a few tricks when the library cut his hours. He tried to stop jerking off, but that only resulted in too many nights of dreams about pale freckled skin and pleading eyes and messy sheets the next day. He threw himself into his coursework, even more than usual. He had a routine: class, work, maybe suck off some Wall Street asshole in exchange for a wad of cash, studying, publishing his pseudonymous stock tips in the  _ Post _ , sleep and jerking off only when completely necessary. Lather, rinse, repeat. He sent a few postcards to Ben, with brief reminders to study for the SATs, and he got long rambling letters back. Kid couldn't wait to graduate, and was wondering why George was burning hot and cold all of a sudden. Alex always wrote back, because he wasn't gonna be the one to kick Ben to the curb. 

He kept Ben’s photo and his mail shoved in the back of his dresser drawer, until he came home after a late shift at the library and found Gil holding the Polaroid like a trophy.

“Who's this? He's very pretty.” Gil smirked while twirling the photo in his fingers. “One of George’s?”

“Don't go through my shit, Gil.” After a few awkward attempts at keep-away, Alex managed to snatch the photo out of Gil’s hands.

“Is that why you've been sulking all semester? You fell for one of George’s playthings?”

“It's not like that at all. We messed around a few times. That's it.” Alex rifled through his shelf and grabbed the tape. “Next time, fucking ask, ferchrissakes.”

Alex grabbed his coat and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him. He needed to blow off some steam, and walked to the nearest shit bar. He shoved the photo deep in his pocket. Alex could only hope that Ben was having a good time, wherever he was. And that George wouldn't burn him to the ground. That was the secret for dealing with George: keep a few things locked away so the old man couldn't take everything from you.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
